The Divine Love
by Marci
Summary: --Chapter Five!--BV K18 GC I'm back again! This time, our friends are either angels or demons. There was a war in Heaven, and now it's feared that another is to come. But can a love shared between those in Heaven and those in Hell heal old wounds?
1. The Great War

Well, I just can't stay with one or two things for very long. I've have a few ideas for fics, and then I came across one called "And We Were Angels" by amcm74, and I started to develop my own ideas for an angel/demon fic. I'd read some with angels and demons before, but none so great as "And We Were Angels". You all should definitely check that fic out, it's amazing! I can't stop reading it! :)…But anyway, read mine too! It's nothing like that one. But you can all be the judge of that…  
  
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The fabled war in Heaven—that man of the future would ponder and debate over for centuries—raged on in the beautiful celestial plains. The Faithful verses The Renegades. The tension was phenomenal and had been building for millenniums, from the very first day when the Almighty created His angels; The First Angel, leader of all other angels, God's closest companion, bearing wings of silver to emphasize power; The Council Angels, a group of one hundred loyal angels seeming to have no thoughts other than serving Him; The Guardian Angels, bearing golden feathered wings to mark their status, extremely humble and highly respected; a group of angels separated into ranks, whose soul purpose was to serve the Father and carry out his special assignments as He saw fit; and The Experiments, twenty angels given freewill and a choice as to whether they wanted to serve God or Lunaus, the first angel to leave Heaven, also called Lucifer, among other names.  
  
The great battle began not long after Lunaus parted ways with Heaven and created his own kingdom of sin. God decided to offer The Experiments, infused with freewill—thus concealing them from God's warm light—a chance to prove their loyalty. They only had to answer one question: Do you love your Maker? All but two of the twenty angels fled to Lunaus upon finding they'd been part of an experiment and had never felt God's love. The remaining angels—one male, one female—were immediately praised by the Almighty and received by Him, showering them with the deprived light.  
  
Centuries passed since the Great Abandonment and souls began to crowd around the Gates of Heaven. God wasn't entirely sure what to do with these wandering spirits. There was no specific place for them in Heaven, and so He created The Keeper of the Souls, a celestial being, though not an angel, who carried the keys to Human Eternity, a separate section of Heaven reserved for believers. The Keeper, with God's guidelines, decided which souls entered Heaven and which were left at the Gates. To gain access to The Great Beyond a soul would have had to live a virtually sinfree life and acknowledge the existence of God. The latter was never what kept a soul from entering Heaven. And lost souls could not enter, even if they'd never committed a single sin, for they weren't even aware they were dead and therefore couldn't speak with The Keeper without being confused and wander away.  
  
Lunaus, upon seeing the billions of denied souls hovering around Heaven's Gates, decided to take them with him, offering them all that they desired, whether it be sinful or not. With his powers he created what is known as Hell, and a legion of followers; his demons. He created his First Demon and two to assist this fledgling; a council and what he called a lackey. Other servant demons were made, though the first three possessed the most power and could rule over the servants.  
  
Finally Lunaus had an army of demons and indebted human souls, as well as the eighteen Fallen Angels still retaining their celestial abilities and now blackened wings, to march against God and His Angels. He went up to the Gates and demanded to be let in. The Keeper of the Souls warned him that he was already out of the Almighty's favor and should not tread so close to the edge. Lunaus ignored his words and charged the Gates with his followers. The Fallen Angels used their powers to disable other angels and soon they began to fight back with fury. Never had their Paradise been compromised before. They loathed Lunaus and fought with all their power. In the end Lunaus achieved a thousand new Fallen Angels and the remaining male of The Experiments, his treasured prize. God ended the war with what the Earth called The Great Flood, illustrating His ultimate power and pushing back all the demons and Fallen Angels, though it cost Him nearly all of His mortals. The souls of the good dead bombarded the Gates, overwhelming God and The Keeper. As an apology He accepted them as a new breed of angels and promised to never allow the innocent to suffer foolishly for immortal disputes.  
  
Lunaus swore he would avenge God and retreated back to Hell, though quite pleased with his gains.  
  
Afterward only one of The Experiments remained, and she was presented with the power to grant miracles as issued by God, an honor only He possessed in the past. The First Angel, fifty Guardian Angels, half of the rank angels, and The Keeper of the Souls remained as well.  
  
In Hell the new Fallen Angels were given red wings to contrast with the black wings of the First Fallen Angels, thus giving the Firsts more power and rein over the Seconds. The last male of The Experiments was endowed with black wings as well, though bearing one white feather to signify that he had remained in Heaven much longer than the rest, and he was named The Keeper of the Damned Souls; storybooks would call him Death or The Grim Reaper. He preferred Fallen Angel #17.  
  
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---Chapter 1! Hey all! That was the very first chapter of my newest fic, and I hope you're intrigued enough to continue reading as I continue posting. I've read other fics that deal with the angel/demons Heaven/Hell issues involving Bulma and Vegeta, and everyone else, but I decided to give it a shot myself and see where I can get with it. I love the idea and angels drive me nuts (in a good way). I love their wings. I want wings! *pouts* Anyway, please tell me if you think I should continue.  
  
REVIEW!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! (Reviews=More Chapters)  
  
Next time: The actual beginning of the story…  
  
Note: Obviously you only know for sure who one of the DBZ characters is, and that's 17, The Keeper of the Damned Souls. And if you haven't already figured it out, 18 is the last of The Experiments…The rest I'll give you as the story progresses. 


	2. As It Is

Last time: I basically laid the ground work for the beginning of the fic.  
  
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The one thing the Almighty never counted on was the dishonor of mortal man. Centuries flew by and there seemed to be no hope for the humans, even with Divine Intervention, of which God saw fit to perform more and more as the years passed. His most favored angel, The First Angel, was at His side throughout all the turmoil and shame, though in the end she too found it increasingly difficult to keep optimistic in such hard times. Finally she asked to take a leave of absence and visit Earth for herself, disguised as a human, to live as they live for a short time and maybe figure out what went so horribly wrong.  
  
To her utter surprise, her wish was granted and she was sent to Earth.  
  
As His most trusted advisor and companion, she was allowed to cloak herself from His eyes and go about life as a mortal without worrying about Him. She found a small country cottage in the deep woods and settled there, finding a job as a maid for a local family. And although she normally wouldn't need food or drink, she was required to follow all the rules of an ordinary human; she loved fruits and wine most of all. It was three years before she contacted the Almighty again, and requested to stay longer.  
  
Again, her wish was granted and she ran happily into the sunset, a sight only the eyes of mortals could appreciate.  
  
It would be ten more years before she returned to Heaven, but by then her fate was already brewing.  
  
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Afterlife in Hell was never dull and never quiet. The demons drank Demonic liquor and chanted Demonic words from human Demonic Bibles, laughing hysterically whenever "fire and brimstone" was mentioned. Lunaus was content with his minions, feeling that he would be ready to storm Heaven again very soon and win the rolling plains. The only thing keeping him at bay was the great number difference; he could only create demons, and recruit Fallen Angels and evil souls, while God could create Angels from nowhere AND make worthy mortal spirits into Angels, and he possessed the good dead. In an ever-rampaging cold war, God created more Angels then Lunaus could keep up with. He was desperate to win, though it seemed he needed a miracle, of which he was not allowed.  
  
The First Demon, Lunaus' most ruthless and loyal demon, was ever ready to obey him. With his provided Council, a she-demon with a fiery temper, and his number one Lackey, The First Demon was prepared for anything. He took it upon himself to instruct many of the lowly demons and Fallen Angels, which Lunaus had no pleasure in and let him do as he pleased. And though his closest companions were his Council and Lackey, he found that The Keeper of the Damned Souls was his preferred company and to be most trusted.  
  
But Lunaus was losing his faith in his demons, and God was getting closer and closer to winning. He called upon The First Angel and The Keeper of the Damned Souls, sending them to Earth to contract evil humans into demon-hood, the only way Lunaus could create demons from humans, which were far more powerful than those he could create on his own. They agreed readily and set for the Earth.  
  
Little did they know that God's most divine of the Angels was present there as well.  
  
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"Mama! Mama!" cried a little girl in the market place, her eyes glistening and threatening to let tears escape. She stood in the middle of the dirt road, her simple blue dress covered in dust and her hair in tangles. She was no more than four years old, and all alone.  
  
"I'll help you find your mother," said a tall woman with aqua-marine locks and a friendly smile. "What's your name sweety?" she asked, though she knew exactly what her name was. She grabbed the child's hand and looked around, knowing also where the mother was.  
  
"Celeste," she hiccupped, drying her eyes. She liked this tall woman with the weird colored hair. She smelled nice. The woman smiled down at the girl, loving the sound her name and the way it rolled off her tongue.  
  
"Oh Celeste!" a smaller woman cried, her long black hair flying behind her. She ran to the girl and swooped her into her arms, kissing her face all over. "Where did you go off to? I was so worried." Suddenly she turned to the taller woman, just noticing her. "Thank you so much for looking after her. I told her to stay put, but she never listens."  
  
"I'm just happy that you have her back," she said, then waved to the mother and daughter as they walked away, wondering if it were possible for her to have that some day.  
  
"Not likely," came a deep voice from behind the woman. She jumped out of habit, then turned around and smiled at the man that stood behind her, his black hair sticking out in odd places. She wondered why he insisted on wearing it in such a way. "Because I like it," he laughed.  
  
"Are you cloaked?" she asked, glancing around the crowded market. If anyone saw this man they weren't acknowledging it.  
  
"No. I'm a human today, just like you."  
  
"You haven't been down in months."  
  
"It's seconds to me. I feel like I just saw you."  
  
"What happened to Baiko? I thought you were watching over him."  
  
"He died last night. Heart attack. I—" He cast his eyes at the ground, looking like a large, sad child. "I couldn't save his soul in time…He's with Lunaus now, I suppose."  
  
"I'm sorry. Come. I bought some wine. Let's drink."  
  
"You know I can't. I may be in human guise, but I'm on duty. My new assignment is close by."  
  
"I see. Well, I'm headed home. You're welcome to follow me if you'd like." She turned and started walking in the opposite direction, until she realized her friend wasn't following. "What's the matter?"  
  
"Don't you even miss it?"  
  
"What?"  
  
"Heaven," he sighed, pointing towards the sky, though it technically wasn't up, just in another plain. "We really miss you there."  
  
"I thought you said it was like seconds passed…Look, I'm happy here for now. I plan on going back soon, or whenever I'm in desperate need. I suggest you take a break as well. I think all you Angels need to come here and relax. It refreshes your soul, my friend. Do try it sometime."  
  
"Iuratus," he mumbled in Latin, then seemed to flicker. She knew what that meant. He was no longer a disguised Angel, but a cloaked one, and soon his brilliant golden feathers poked out from behind him. She smiled.  
  
"I'm loyal, too," she sighed. "I'm just in desperate need of peace. I love it here."  
  
"You want to stay indefinitely, don't you?"  
  
"I only wish. But I know I cannot, and so I leave it as only a wish, nothing more." She walked back over to her friend and took his hand. No one in the streets seemed to notice. "Come back again soon," she said, kissing his hand. "And I'd only admit this to you…I miss my wings!"  
  
"They're waiting for you. All you have to do is ask." His face darkened some and he bit his perfectly smooth bottom lip. "You know you can never have it. It's impossible. You—"  
  
"I know. I know. I'm The First Angel, and I have a duty to my Father. I only wanted to know what it felt like to have so much love packed into such a small body. I envy human mothers."  
  
"And that's how it shall always be, Bulma."  
  
"I know, Goku…I know…"  
  
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"You're an enigma," spat The First Demon, rolling his eyes and looking away. "Why can't we simply find the most corrupt souls and tempt them? It'll make this whole ordeal much quicker. I despise being here."  
  
"Because, bellboy, it's more fun to tempt the innocent," the taller of the two replied; The Keeper of the Damned Souls. "Besides, even if you don't like it here, I do. Hell is fun," he said, as if it was an off-handed comment, "but I prefer the company of mortals. I know what demons are thinking, but you never know with a human. Very unpredictable."  
  
"Like you," The First Demon laughed, throwing his head back, then straightened back up and smoothed out his hair; he was completely in love with himself.  
  
"What do you mean, like me?"  
  
"Must I recount your blunder back during The Great War?" He glanced towards the sky and sighed. He wondered what it would have been like to be an angel, to actually be appreciated for his work, instead of being a servant to Lunaus. Even Lunaus knew what lay beyond the Gate of Heaven, as did 17 and a whole slew of others that now resided in Hell. Would he have made the same choice as 17 and stayed with the Almighty? And if so, would he have then gone into Hell and become Lunaus' most prized and cherished demon? He honestly didn't know.  
  
"God was my master. I was bound to him and my sister, and blinded, as well. I stayed because that's what I needed to do then. Now I see the error in my ways. Enough said. I'm one of the greatest demons there is." He turned his back on his friend, but called back over his shoulder, a smirk on his lips. "I have freewill."  
  
After their little spat, The First Demon decided not to push his already hostile friend. If they harmed any innocents while on Earth, it was likely the Almighty would begin The Second Great War, and ever present and looming possibility. And Hell was not ready, not in the least, and so they kept themselves at bay and didn't continue their quarrel. Until they came upon a small village that is, and 17 simply couldn't help himself.  
  
"Look, there," he whispered, as if he were a child and saw the most expensive and elaborate toy in a shop window. The First Demon followed his finger to a blue-haired woman who stood some ten yards away from them, bent at the waist and offering a crippled old man a drink of water from a glass. Her hair was thick and wavy, slightly unkempt, but not messy in a way that looked uncared for, rather she was busy with other things more important than appearance. Her clothes were simple, working-class style, black in color with a sash of white silk around her waist. She wore sandals on her feet and a cloak around her shoulders, its hood pulled away from her head.  
  
She was absolutely gorgeous.  
  
"She's perfect," 17 said, admiring her slender figure, despite the loose-fitted clothing, and the way she was so compassionate with this man that she had only just met. "I must have her soul. Can you imagine how powerful she would be as a demon?" He let his smile take over his features, growing almost out of control as he let out a booming laugh. Several people in the vicinity turned and glared at the strange man and his companion, though the blue-haired beauty did not.  
  
"She's too perfect," The First Demon said before his friend could get too caught up in his earthly fantasies. "There's no way you can claim her soul. She'll never believe your fanciful stories. She's too pure. Look at her!" He pointed almost furiously. He did not appreciate his time being wasted. "She's lifting that cup to that man's lips. I wouldn't be surprised if she were named a saint by her people. Now come on. I'm growing weary of this. And you haven't successfully bagged one innocent. Give up on your foolish quest."  
  
"You want her for yourself," 17 snapped accusingly, rounding on his friend. "You want that little human beneath you. I see it in your eyes!"  
  
"I can know desire, 17. I'm a full-blooded demon. Not some half-breed celestial demi-demon."  
  
"I can know desire too, Vegeta! I would take that frail human if I wanted to! But I want her soul instead! And I WILL have it! Mark my words, I will have that pure woman as my bounty and there's nothing you can do about it."  
  
"If Lunaus knew what you had planned for this mission he would have never sent you without guards."  
  
"Isn't that what you're for, oh great one?"  
  
"I came alone because I wanted to. Lunaus never told me to come. Look." He grabbed his friend suddenly by the arm and pointed at the woman, now straightened and talking with the crippled man. "She cannot be persuaded to join our ranks. It's that simple. But," he sighed, "if you cannot hear that and don't prefer simple, then hear this. Lunaus will erase you from existence if you touch that woman. She is too good, and too pure, and too much like an angel. The Almighty will never over-look such a thing and will wage war on our kingdom. Have you any idea how much of an advantage He has? Both you and I would cease to be." A smirk curled at Vegeta's lips and he let go of 17's arm. "And I simply cannot have that. I enjoy my job far too much."  
  
17 sighed deeply, defeated, and ruffled his blackened feathered wings, the single white feather clearly visible in the brilliant sunlight. He was ever trying to pull the feather out for good, but it always grew back, as a constant reminder that while his other eighteen Experiment siblings went into Hell, he had stayed. This he did now, tugging furiously at the while feather, only to grunt in frustration and stomp away from the blue-haired woman.  
  
Vegeta only laughed under his breath at the Keeper of the Damned Souls' behavior. He was so angelically childish in his anger. Never would Vegeta act in much a manner, no matter how angry he became. For him it was: obliterate a few hundred petty evil humans and haul them off to demonhood, torturing the most foul of the bunch. If he had wings, he doubted he'd even given them a second thought. But he didn't need wings to fly. Nothing set him apart from humans other than his powers. He could completely blend in with them without cloaking himself, as 17 had to do.  
  
He knew he was alone the moment he felt a rush of warm air rush by his face. 17 had fled to another part of the world in pursuit of damned souls, leaving Vegeta to his thoughts, his eyes positively glued on the blue-haired woman. He had to see her more closely. What was it that was so alluring about this simple earth female?  
  
"Because she's so pure, and you know you can't have her," came a voice in his ear. He turned around sharply and glared at his Council, his Lackey at her side. They laughed for a moment, then their faces returned to their usual sullen appearance. "Why not find some whore? Isn't that what you male demons do?"  
  
"And what do she-demons do?" he asked, smirking.  
  
"Lunaus wants 17 to come back. He had a scout follow you two and he's fuming."  
  
"A scout! What for!? I was with him! I stopped him from making a fatal blunder. Who was it?"  
  
"Doesn't matter. He's long gone." She glanced around, her long black hair falling behind her head. She could have passed for an angel any day. "Where's 17?"  
  
"Gone. I called him a demi-demon."  
  
"Bastard."  
  
"What?"  
  
"You know what. Lunaus needs him, and not with his attitudes. So stop provoking him. Have to any idea how many souls we'll need to combat the Almighty!" She shook her head furiously and turned to the Lackey, as if he could help the situation.  
  
"You're here for more, aren't you?" Vegeta asked, sensing the discomfort in her. "What has Lunaus decreed?"  
  
"We're to help you and 17 with the collection of souls."  
  
"What!" he roared. Nearly the entire group of humans nearby jumped and turned towards the group of demons, thinking them nothing more than rebel familiars. They didn't notice that the other was gone, and that there were now three instead of two, only that they were causing a disturbance and their newly humbled environment. Ever since the arrival of their blesséd blue-haired maiden, the town had never been better. "We do NOT need your assistance in the matter. I could collect the souls myself, but Lunaus seems to think 17 has a knack for it." He mumbled a few choice curses under his breath, then waved his companions away. "Go on. I'll be back soon. Try looking for the Keeper on the other side of the planet. I'm sure that's where he went. Ridiculous…"  
  
"Just admit that you need our help," she huffed, crossing her arms. "We're skilled in contracting too, you know. All demons are. Only Lunaus, as you said, favors some over others. And he told us we HAD to assist you, so take it up with him."  
  
"You're a wretch, Chi-Chi," Vegeta spat, turning his back on her.  
  
"Well of course she is," the Lackey laughed, wrapping his arm around her waist. They would leave him be, that much was clear. "She's your Council, Vegeta. As such she's required to be a foul wretch, and so are you. Maybe you're just going soft."  
  
"One more word and you're a pile of ashes, you got that Krillin?"  
  
Without another word the two demons faded into nothing, leaving Vegeta once again alone and staring at the beauty. Only when his eyes settled on her, he found that she had been starring at him, her head tilted slightly to the right, her eyes wide and curious.  
  
She'd never seen a man quite like him before, his muscles bulging and tight against the fabric of his coat. His hair shot straight up on end, reminding her instantly of her dear friend Goku. She smiled sweetly at the mysterious man and waved him over.  
  
He reluctantly obliged.  
  
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---Chapter 2! Well, would you look at that? Hmm…What's Bulma got in store for Vegeta? And will they ever find out their true identities? Vegeta thinks Bulma is a human, and vice versa with Vegeta. Hmm…  
  
REVIEW!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! (Reviews=More Chapters)  
  
Next time: They meet, duh :P 


	3. When Worlds Collide

Last time:  
  
She'd never seen a man quite like him before, his muscles bulging and tight against the fabric of his coat. His hair shot straight up on end, reminding her instantly of her dear friend Goku. She smiled sweetly at the mysterious man and waved him over.  
  
He reluctantly obliged.  
  
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"I haven't see you around here," Bulma said, her hand absently running through her long, silky tresses. She turned and motioned over her shoulder for Vegeta to follow her. "I've lived here for ten years and I've never seen you. Are you traveling through?"  
  
"No," he finally said, saddling up beside her, subconsciously wondering where she was leading him. He glanced over his shoulder, the figures of Chi-Chi and Krillin shimmering in the distance. They'd returned to spy on him, but she couldn't see them. She was a mere mortal, and as such she could not see the damned, or the celestial, unless shown.  
  
"Talkative, are we?" she laughed.  
  
They came to an open field some two hundred yards from the market place. A bare, flattened boulder, about ten feet in diameter, sat just before them. Bulma took a seat upon the rock, patting the place next to her. Again Vegeta was reluctant to oblige. What was it that this mortal woman wanted with him? And why was she not afraid of a stranger as were most women of the time? He knew he didn't exactly have a "kind" face, so why was she so calm?  
  
"You're moving here then?"  
  
He shook his head. He should be going. He had to find 17 and get back to Lunaus.  
  
"Alright." She cupped her chin with her hand, her brows furrowed. "Not passing through, not staying…Are you visiting someone?"  
  
"No."  
  
"Business?"  
  
He nodded.  
  
"Ok, now we're getting somewhere. What sort of business? I don't see a pack with you. You're not selling anything."  
  
"I came for a fellow business man, yet I find myself lost."  
  
"What does he look like? Maybe I could find him for you." She glanced around, though knew there was no one around, except for those few still at market. Gently she tried to penetrate his mind, see an image of this partner, and then find the mind of that man; she was quite beyond shocked when she found she could do nothing but give herself a mild headache. But sometimes it was that way with mortals. Sometimes their minds possessed natural barriers that make it almost impossible to pull information.  
  
"Please stop," Vegeta murmured. He'd come across telepathic mortals in the past, though none as strong as she. "It's quite annoying."  
  
"What is?" Was he referring to what she thought he was? No. It couldn't be. Though she instinctively put up her own shield.  
  
"You know what you're doing," he huffed, bringing his legs up so he now sat Indian style, his black satin cape flowing behind him. He was dressed in the manner of an important man, one who could draw attention if he wanted, though blend in with a crowd as well. A perfect disguise when coming to the Earth. "But to be perfectly clear with you—" He tilted his head and looked over at her, her eyes slightly wider. "—I cannot stand it when other 'mind-readers' try to tap into my mind. It's very uncouth of you to not mention it."  
  
"Forgive me," she said quickly, a furious blush touching her cheeks. She'd never encountered a telepathic mortal before. Though, she'd never really thought about it. Maybe all those "naturally closed doors" were mind-reading mortals like this strange man. She would have to be more careful in the future. It was imperative that her secret remain hidden. "But there was no way for me to know. The blame is not fully mine."  
  
"Yes, but you agree that it was rude."  
  
She nodded.  
  
"And don't do it again." He turned his head to face forward again. "In fact, try not to do it at all if you can help it, with others I mean. It's more of a…challenge, to learn who a person is, rather than spying on their thoughts. And you look to me like a woman who can enjoy challenges."  
  
"Why do you think I waved you over?" she said confidently, feeling almost comfortable with this man who she didn't even know his name.  
  
"My name is Vegeta."  
  
"You're unfair, Vegeta," Bulma sighed. "Please grant me the same honor. I swear to not pry into your mind, but you must swear the same for me."  
  
"Fine. I swear." He frowned.  
  
"Thank you. My name is Bulma."  
  
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"She still won't return?" 18 sighed, her eyes on the parade of mortals that The Keeper of the Souls was leading into Heaven. It'd become a ritual of sorts for her as of late, what with Bulma gone.  
  
"She is too in love with the Earth and its beings," Goku answered, his heart heavy with grief. The only way she would return without wanting to would be if there was a dire emergency that needed her assistance. Otherwise, she was feared to remain there forever.  
  
"But she cannot stay much longer. Heaven needs her. We all need her. She is the example for the others, for the New Ones. Without her…" Her words trailed off. "I see that you've been successful as of late," she remarked, pointing to the procession of mortal souls, several of their bodies were tinged with a faint, barely noticeable, aura of golden light; Goku's mark of triumph; his saved souls.  
  
"My last slipped through my fingers," he sighed, pulling his wings tightly together, as if he were trying to lessen them. "He was a gambler and a murderer of his kin. He was just beginning to see the error of his ways when a fatal heart attack struck. He died knowing that he could not be saved."  
  
"And you had the misfortunate of seeing my wrongful brother?"  
  
"Yes, he was there, waiting for the man to die. It's so unnatural to see an angel with black wings. I'm shaken every time."  
  
"Angel!" she spat. "He is no angel. He's a demon, Goku. A foul demon. And a collector of wicked souls for that matter. Do you know what they're doing now, the demons?"  
  
"Yes, I've heard." He hung his head. "They've been contracting souls for the past three hundred years. They've taken innocents right from under our noses. 18! We need your miracles. Hasn't the Almighty granted you leave yet? I haven't sensed you on the Earth in so long. It needs you."  
  
"He has not," she said bitterly, turning from the mass of mortals, her blonde hair catching the light perfectly, her powder blue feathers seemingly white. "I won't ask him again. He still has hope."  
  
"And so should you," Goku scolded, finding it unbelievable that both 18 and Bulma had the same negative attitude towards mortals. Was he the only angel left that still believed they stood a chance? "How many times does He have to reassure you angels?"  
  
"I'm not an ordinary angel, Goku. You know that. Everyone does. Even them!" She motioned frantically to the souls, an almost endless line of semi-transparent once-beings. "I can feel their eyes on me. They know I'm more like them than any of the angels they've seen in their short time here. And they wonder, 'Is she one of us turned angel? Can we become angels too?' And the answer is yes, Goku. The answer is yes, because the Almighty has run out of options in this Cold War with Lunaus. The contracting and the mortal angels are the last parts of the puzzle. Don't you see? The war is already at the Gates. It's only a matter of the spark, and then we're back to chaos, and all shall suffer."  
  
"And the Lord knows you feel this way?"  
  
"Of course he does. And I think he agrees with me, though he's determined not to let his error with his angels reoccur. Did you know that there is only maybe a third of the original angels left in Heaven? A third! The rest are mortal angels." She shook her head wearily. "Demon-angels are becoming increasingly powerful. The last time I was on Earth I had the misfortunate of encountering one."  
  
"One you knew?"  
  
"Yes, but not in a very long while…Their power was enormous. I had to cloak myself to remain unnoticed. I…I witnessed a murder at the hands of this disguised demon. They transcended into mortal form and killed a woman…And so I performed a miracle, I brought her back to life, and I let her know me for what I was…I gave her a feather." She pointed to the place on her right wing where she'd plucked the feather; the spot would always remain bare. Angel feathers never grew back, leaving them with constant reminders of how they were lost.  
  
"We can still win," he murmured.  
  
"Win?" She laughed, turning from him. "It's not about winning, Goku. It never was."  
  
"Then what is it about?"  
  
"If you have to ask, you'll never know…"  
  
*********************************************************  
  
"Do you have any idea how much I need you right now, boy!" Lunaus roared, his milk white feathers ruffling in frustration. He, the first angel to fall, was alone endowed with white wings as he descended from Heaven. Why the Lord allowed him to retain such an obvious symbol of good, he did not know, only that he adored his feathers and would, under no circumstances, allow even his whored demons to touch them. He believed—in some way—they were the key to the Almighty's undoing. "Your outbursts are causing me millions of souls! Do you understand that?"  
  
He sighed deeply, head in his hands, and turned his back on the Keeper of the Damned Souls, assuming his position on his self-proclaimed throne. Of course he was furious with 17, but he could not deny his love for his demon, so much like himself. He was one of the few Lunaus allowed himself to have such feelings for, though he denied them openly. "Demons have no use for love!" he'd proclaimed countless times.  
  
"What am I to do with you, my dear friend?" he sighed, finally looking at 17, whose blue eyes were cast at the ground. It'd taken the combined strength of Chi-Chi, Krillin, and the scout demon to apprehend him and bring him back to Hell. "Three of my best, well, two of my best and a scout it took to bring you under control. What was it that upset you so? Am I to expect this more often now? Am I to find another, more worthy, Keeper?"  
  
"No, Sir, of course not," 17 said finally, his eyes slowly rising to meet those of his master. " I can handle the job, only…" He trailed off, his eyes dropping with his voice. How could he explain to Lunaus that it was ill words from Vegeta that caused him distress? How pitiful he would sound. How pitiful he would feel.  
  
"Just because Vegeta is a full-blooded demon, does not make his words true," Lunaus said. 17's eyes widened and he fought to keep his anger in check. "Chi-Chi told me what was said, and I believe you were entitled to run off. Though the struggle to return could have gone undone." He rose from his throne and placed a firm hand on 17's shoulder. "I understand how you must feel. You dread turning your back to the others for a moment for fear of exposing your one white feather. But remember this," he said, pointing to his wings. "I possess wings of nothing but white feathers, and I am a 'demi-demon' just as you. Now, do try to keep your anger at bay with Vegeta. I know he's harsh, but that's only because I made him that way. I needed a demon fully capable to being ruthless and loyal."  
  
"Why did you ask if you already knew?" was all he could think to say.  
  
"Why do you do the same now?" Lunaus laughed, patting 17's shoulder once, then turned to leave.  
  
"That was pitiful," came a sneering voice from behind 17. He jumped almost instantly, turning around so fast he nearly lost balance. In the back of his mind Lunaus' words still rang clear—"You dread turning around…for fear of exposing your one white feather," and that was absolutely true.  
  
"What do you want, Nappa?" 17 spat back, subconsciously pulling his wings as tightly together as possible. "I thought you were on guard duty for the next thousand years. You know, for being tempted by an angel and releasing all those souls to Heaven. You do remember that, right?"  
  
"Only because you constantly remind me. But what's so wrong with what I did? At least it was in the bounds of my job description. I've never been known to throw fits over name-calling."  
  
Within moments Nappa was to the ground, his bald head colliding with the deep brown clay. He pushed and shoved at his fellow demon, only to have his head once again slammed down.  
  
"More hissy fits, my friend?" he laughed, dodging a punch.  
  
"You're scum, Nappa. All full-blooded demons are the same. Scum!"  
  
"What else should I be? My job is to harbor souls for an army. Evil souls! What more can I be but evil myself? Now get off me before I use force with you."  
  
"I'm ten times stronger than you, Nappa. Don't test me," 17 said, climbing to his feet, his long silky hair mussed. The taller demon laughed at the sight, having always found 17's "girlish" hair humorous. "No get the fuck away from me. I can't stand you."  
  
"And I can't stand sniveling demi-demons." He dodged one last attempt from 17, then sauntered away and out of view, leaving 17 to his thoughts.  
  
Was he right? Could he be just a lowly demi-demon, still pining over the Lord and wanting to be in His light once again?  
  
No.  
  
He shook his head furiously. That was one thing he was sure of. He did NOT wish to lay eyes on the Almighty again. That part of him was gone, and no one, not even his belovéd sister, could change his mind.  
  
********************************************************  
  
Bulma let the rock that had been levitating just above her hand fall into her palm, her face the picture of triumph. For the past five hours she and Vegeta had been discussing their lives, though, more often than not, she did all the talking. Now they were to the point of complete relaxation with each other—and they both confessed it was a rarity to be so comfortable with another person—and were engaged in a battle of mental power.  
  
"There isn't much I cannot do," she laughed, tossing him the rock.  
  
He rolled his eyes at her, then held out the rock and mentally commanded it to rise to the air, some two inches from his hand.  
  
"Easy," he stated, dropping the rock to the ground. "Can you move heavier objects?" He smirked, thinking that he had her, though in a split second realized he was inches higher than a moment ago, and Bulma was having a hard time suppressing her laughter. "Let me down," he growled, reaching at her.  
  
She did as he said, though at that second, his arms were reached out, and he ended up nearly in her lap. He stumbled to his feet, mumbled something under his breath, and straightened his cape.  
  
"You're amazing," she said confidently, secretly thinking that aside from Goku, 18, and Yamcha (The Keeper of the Souls), this strange earthman, Vegeta, was her closet companion.  
  
"Companion?" Vegeta laughed, running a hand through his unruly hair. "You barely know me. And if you did, I'm sure you'd think otherwise."  
  
"What of our agreement?" Bulma snarled, rising to her feet. "You swore."  
  
"I'm not one to keep promises," he sighed, exasperated, his time running thin. Soon it would be the evening, and that meant valuable time wasted with nothing accomplished. How could he have allowed himself to get so caught up with this woman and not even feel compelled to bed her without consequence? Sure the thought had crossed his mind, to have her in his arms, panting and sweaty; but to ditch her afterwards? Somehow that seemed too wrong, even for him. "But if you must be that way," he said, his foot tapping the ground lightly. "I didn't pry into your thoughts. You sent it to me, by accident. It's a mistake even the most experienced of us make. But be warned, I'm no man to get caught up with. If ever our paths cross again, do well to turn away from me."  
  
"I simply can't do that, Vegeta." She let herself smile, though her heart was still wounded by his truthful words. "I'm compelled, in some way, to stay by you. I can't explain it, but I want to know you more. When are leaving? Can we meet again? Soon?"  
  
"I know your meaning, woman, but I can't allow that to happen. My job is at stake right now, and I have certain…duties, that demand my attention. Being with you for so long was a mistake. I must go…Now."  
  
"You try so hard to be cold, Vegeta," she said, not turning around when she felt the presence of another angel, though she knew it to not be Goku. "But let me tell you this: I will not give up on you until I discover the root of your consistencies, why you are the way you are and what drives your darkened soul."  
  
"My darkened soul?" he laughed, suddenly picking up the distinct feeling of another's eyes on him. He glanced around, but found not a soul beside the blue-haired mortal. He knew it to be an angel, cloaked from him, and immediately put up his guard, though regained composure for conversation's sake. "How is it that you can hit it on the mark so expertly, yet you're so blind to the blatant truth?"  
  
"And what truth is that?" She crossed her arms and ignored the pull at her arm. Whoever the Almighty had sent was eager to speak with her.  
  
"That, no matter what you do or say, I will never let on to my true self. In fact, we shall never see each other again, if I can help it, so your search for the 'root' is meaningless. Good day."  
  
"You'll come back," she said to his back. "I know you can feel that connection we made today. I haven't in all my existence felt such a pull on my soul. It's impossible that we should never meet again. Good-bye Vegeta."  
  
He only laughed at her words and continued on his way.  
  
"Bulma!" the cloaked angel whispered in her ear, once he was out of sight.  
  
"Reveal yourself," she sighed. There was nothing that bothered her more than speaking to air.  
  
"You must return," they said, their long reddish hair materializing before her eyes. "The Keeper of the Damned Souls is at Heaven's Gates as we speak!" Her eyes held nothing short of distress. "He's demanding we give over the souls 'taken' from Hell a thousand years ago!"  
  
"What would Lunaus want with those souls?" Bulma asked, grinding her teeth.  
  
"It wasn't Lunaus' doing, Bulma. He came on his own."  
  
*********************************************************  
  
---Chapter 3!! Ok, so now all the characters (I think) are mentioned. Well, all the important ones. And Vegeta and Bulma have met, yay!!  
  
REVIEW!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! (Reviews=More Chapters)  
  
Next time: Back to Heaven…  
  
Note: The reason Bulma and Vegeta don't recognize each other is because they've never met before now. When Heaven and Hell were at war, they didn't focus on faces, get it?…And they only know of each other by their status name, e.i.: The First Angel and The First Demon.  
  
Note2: I really hope everyone is enjoying this. I'm putting a lot of effort into it, 'cause I never do with my other fics, LOL! 


	4. Sibling Rivalry

Last time:  
  
"What would Lunaus want with those souls?" Bulma asked, grinding her teeth.  
  
"It wasn't Lunaus' doing, Bulma. He came on his own."  
  
***********************************************************  
  
"Let! Go! Of! Meeee!" 18 shrieked, her fingers clawing at the Gates of Heaven, her silky blonde hair a mess of tangles in her eyes. She was about to give whoever dared stop her a good kick in the shin, when they spoke.  
  
"18, please, calm yourself," they whispered, smoothing down her flaxen locks.  
  
"B-Bulma?" she whimpered, surrendering to her tender caresses, her body going limp in her arms. "You're back."  
  
"And I'm not leaving again," she sighed, her heart heavy. Oh how she wanted to be back on Earth. But now she saw that it was simply impossible. "I understand that the Lord needs me. I was selfish before to think that I could stay away for so long and everything would remain peaceful." She kissed her friend quickly on the forehead, then steadied her and let go. "I swear, you'll never be let down by me again."  
  
"But—"  
  
"And you!" Bulma hissed, gently pushing 18 aside as she advanced towards the Gates. "What do you think you're doing here? You're not allowed anywhere NEAR these gates!"  
  
"Such a temper for such a pure being," the Keeper of the Damned Souls laughed, his soft blue eyes catching every bit of light. "Why—" For a moment he thought he saw something in the angry angel's face that was familiar, though quickly dismissed it—she was only The First Angel—and said, "I didn't know that the Almighty allowed his angels to shout now."  
  
"Why have you come?" she demanded, giving him no measure. He was evil, plain and simple.  
  
"For the bartered souls, of course. I thought your lackey would have told you that."  
  
"Hell has lackeys, Keeper," she sneered, her metallic silver wings quivering in anger. She loathed him that she couldn't enjoy her wings now, that she had to focus on him and not the joy that should be enveloping her now that she was home. "And the souls you speak of are good dead. There is no place in Hell for the good dead."  
  
"On the contrary my queen," he laughed. "We have plenty of your dimwitted 'good dead', as you call them. Contracts made that possible."  
  
"That matters not, demon. They are our souls. You cannot have them."  
  
"Why not let them decide for themselves?" His eyes widened slightly as if he'd just thought of the most brilliant idea. "Oh! That's right!" he cried. "Decisions aren't good for those in Heaven. If God gives them leave, they take it."  
  
"Really?" Bulma remarked, crossing her arms, her wings stretching fully behind her. "What about you? You stayed for eons after your brothers and sisters descended into sin. What right have you to say such things? Or, furthermore, what right have you to be at our Gates when you've been banished for centuries!!"  
  
"To reclaim our souls. How many times do I have to say it?" He craned his neck forward. "Hey! Sis! Come! Come! Let your dear old brother inside!"  
  
18's feathers ruffled. Her grip tightened on Goku's hand. Her eyes burned nothing but pure hatred. Hate for a brother whom she allowed herself to love completely, only to be betrayed in the worst of ways.  
  
"Don't listen to him," Goku whispered, his arms now wrapped protectively around her shoulders, her back pressed comfortably against his chest. "He's only trying to coax you. Don't let him feed your anger. Ignore him. Be the miracle, 18. Overcome your hatred."  
  
"Sorry!" 18 finally called, forcing the biggest smile she could. She tried to break free from Goku's grasp, though found she could only slightly loosen it. "I don't decide who comes in and who does not!"  
  
"How is it that angels can be so spiteful? Isn't that a sin? Isn't that frowned upon here? And to think, I live in a place where what I do, no matter what, is accepted. Heaven is a prejudice place."  
  
"That's not true, 17." Her voice was calmer now. She almost felt as though nothing ill had ever passed between them. And when she went to move from Goku again, he let her, though was quick to follow as she approached the Gates. She swung her arm around Bulma's shoulder and said, "You cannot love in Hell and still be accepted. You cannot do a good deed and still be accepted. And you certainly can't harbor feelings for me, which I know you still do. The Lord," she sighed. "That I can see. I understand your ill will towards him, and unlike the others here, I'm not afraid to say it. But my love for my Father runs deeper than any other feeling I possess."  
  
"You're wrong on most of those counts, dear sister," he laughed. "You can love in Hell, absolutely. Love for your master is quite common there. And you can do good deeds if they benefit Hell in some way. But you are right about one thing." 18's arm fell from Bulma's shoulder and clasped a rung of the gate. "I do still harbor my feelings for you." Gently he enclosed her hand in his own, rubbing his thumb in slow circles. "You are my sister and nothing can change that. We shared a special bond that none of the other Experiments could have possibly comprehended. You are the only regret I have."  
  
"I—" 18 began, though the words seemed to catch in her throat.  
  
"I still love you," he whispered.  
  
"I still…I…I love you too, 17," she all but whimpered, her legs beginning to tremble under her.  
  
"And no amount of hatred that Lunaus instills in me shall change that. No—" He stopped abruptly and drew back as if wounded, his eyes wide with shock, though at the realization of his words—and feelings—his brows narrowed and he spat, "Now open the damn Gates, you Holy Harlot of the Lord!"  
  
The harsh words immediately brought her from her stupor and she lunged at the Gates, her arms reaching through the bars to grab her brother. But before she could touch him—and he was well within her reach—Bulma and Goku both grabbed her and they tumbled to the ground, a mass of glittering feathers.  
  
"The war is coming," 18 whispered, her breathing labored. "Our armies are growing by the second. All those souls you see just there, entering their kingdom, they will be transformed into angels. We shall defeat you evil beings once and for all, and you don't even stand a chance!"  
  
"I so want to believe your words, dear sister," he sighed. "But the last time I did I ended up with an ugly reminder of my mistakes." He pointed disgustedly at his single white feather.  
  
"It's beautiful," she remarked sarcastically. "Just like you. Ha! A beautiful demon! How ironic! How fitting!"  
  
"Cut deeper 18," he urged. "Every jab is one step closer. Soon you shall reside with me, and we will be the happy siblings again. Your hatred makes you perfect for our world, and a strange in yours." He turned sharply on his heels and made to go. "Good-bye my lovely. I look forward to our next encounter."  
  
A second later and 18 would have ended up on the ground. Though luckily Bulma and Goku were right there to break her fall, uttering words of reassurance as she lay crumpled in their arms, her eyes pouring celestial tears.  
  
On Earth, it began to rain…  
  
… and wasn't expected to cease for two dreary days.  
  
***********************************************************  
  
"You're inconceivable," Lunaus muttered, head in his right hand, elbow resting on the arm of his throne. A few paces away Vegeta stood, at attention, his face a stone cold mask of indifference. He knew exactly why he'd been summoned by his master and what the full extent of his punishment could be. He pretended that tending to his duties was a chore for him, when in truth he loved nothing more than doing with damned souls as he pleased. Only now, thinking on it as he was being stared down, as the years—No—as the millenniums rolled on, did he feel the ever-increasing weight of his job. Could there actually be something better out there? And if so, what was it? Could the answer lie on Earth?  
  
Lunaus' sharp voice brought him around.  
  
"I've already spoken with 17 on the matter, but—Vegeta! You, above all, should know better. How many eons are you his senior here?"  
  
"Too many," he sighed, feeling that Lunaus had no right to question him this way. Was he not only one step beneath him? Had he not always been faithful and true? And weren't there other demons who deserved this more? He believed whole-heartedly that there were.  
  
"How long have you been under my command?" Lunaus continued, ignoring his comments. "The laws of this realm are the laws of your life. And if you don't start treating them as such, I might just have to really crack down on you, and, as my First Demon, you know how much I would despise doing that. Do not push me!"  
  
"Are we finished now?" Vegeta asked almost drowsily. "I have matters to attend to."  
  
"Matters given you by me! They can wait. I want to discuss this mortal female you've been seen with."  
  
Vegeta's entire form went rigid. How could he possibly—  
  
"My scout went to retrieve you when you hadn't returned with the others. He saw you conversing with a 'saintly' mortal woman, as he put it."  
  
"Your excellence—" Vegeta began, only to be cut off abruptly.  
  
"Don't mock me!" he snapped, his hands gripping the armrests of the throne. "I trust my source, Vegeta, and your behavior will NOT be tolerated…Whether you were trying—for some ridiculous reason—to contract her soul, or simply converse with her, it cannot go on. Souls are what you deal in my son, not the living, and especially not anyone who can be described as saintly. This woman, whoever she is, is untouchable. Understand?"  
  
"And why can we demons not converse with mortals? Are we not entitled to so little after eons of loyal service?"  
  
"Vegeta, I simply cannot trust someone as foul as you with any virtuous mortal. I have seen angels perish over mortal ties. ANGELS! I will not have it happen to my prized demons."  
  
"It does not happen with demons, father," he sneered, curling his lip. "We have powers angels pine for. We can blend into human life without the slightest want or need for acceptance. We can walk in and out of their lives and care not for their fragile feelings. We are all-powerful compared to them, and compared to the angels…If I didn't know better, oh Fallen One, I'd say you had a soft spot for mortals."  
  
"Leave."  
  
The words were spoken no louder than a whisper, and with seemingly no more force than an infants grip, but the authority behind it could not be questioned.  
  
Vegeta bowed at the waist, his manner holding nothing but mockery, and backed out of the room.  
  
"I cannot endure this," Lunaus groaned, his head slowly lifting upward. "My Father, how am I to continue on? My heart pines more strongly for you as time goes on…I love you, Father…"  
  
**************************************************  
  
"Your brother," Bulma muttered, her precious wings curled inwards in agitation. She'd been summoned home, long before she wished to leave the Earth, and at once was tending to "Hellish" matters. She despised Lunaus intensely at that moment, an emotion she despised in itself, making it impossible for her to escape it. "Of all the things he could have demanded…Our good dead!? Our plundered souls, plucked from the Earth in their prime with no knowledge of who their so-called 'saviors' were. The nerve of him! If Lunaus doesn't deal with him accordingly—"  
  
"Bulma!" Yamcha snapped, stepping up to the group, his tasks complete for the time being. As it was souls were arriving fewer and further apart. And it wasn't only that they were descending into Hell, but that the Earth was becoming more technologically and medically advanced, thus prolonging human life expectancy.  
  
"Yes, Keeper?" she hissed, trying to keep her feathers from ruffling. The only thing she did not miss about her wings was that emotion could be expressed by them, and in anger, Bulma could not control herself. Even the joy of having those wings back did not touch her then.  
  
"First of all," he said, his strong black eyes piercing her with their innocence. He was not an angel, and yet he was permitted access to this realm. And he was not a dead mortal either, a conclusion that many "new" angels come to upon truly meeting him. He didn't have the angelic features or the lavish wings, though his charming smile and wind-swept coal-colored hair did give him the appearance of a celestial being. Sometimes Bulma found it hard not to stare at him, to wonder at his true purpose. There had to be more in store for this non-angel that walked hand-in-hand with the angels. "Bulma, are you listening?"  
  
"Sorry," she mumbled. She'd been caught staring at him again. "Continue."  
  
"First of all, you cannot address Lunaus as if he were an acquaintance of yours. I know you've known him personally in the past, the long ago past, maybe you were even a friend, but nothing about him now is familiar, and it should remain that way indefinitely." He drew in a deep breath, collecting himself. He so hated to give his "famous" lectures. Not only did he feel he was unworthy to preach to angels, but the angels seemed to listen to him with a mocking obedience. He greatly doubted that he would be accepted had the Lord not given him so much sway over the brewing war. "Lunaus is no friend to the angels, and, while I'm sure his minions would deny it, he is no friend to them either. He's trouble for us all, and his demons have yet to see his wrongful ways. And when they do, we'll have more than my darkened counterpart at the Gates."  
  
"Second of all?" Bulma asked, her head tilted slightly to the side. There it was: mocking obedience. He wanted to glare at her, but only managed to curb a frown.  
  
"Second of all, there is NOTHING any of us—" He stopped abruptly, his face seeming to be stricken with horror. Bulma and the others couldn't guess at what the problem was, until they replayed the words in their heads. He'd committed his self-proclaimed sin; he'd associated himself as their equal, as equal to an angel. Not once, but several times in his speech, and was only realizing it now. He shuddered and turned away. Never had he felt so ashamed in all his existence. Even far back in his infancy as a servant to the Lord when he'd boldly kissed The First Angel on the cheek.  
  
"Yamcha," Bulma called as he bowed his head and trudged back the way he'd come.  
  
"I have souls to tend to," he murmured. The Gates were already beginning to become crowded again in only a few short moments.  
  
"Please, come back. You're not in the wrong!" She ran to his side and slid her arm around him, adoring the feel of his soft, yet useless garments. "You are not below angels in anyway. If anything you are envied by them. Look! There." She pointed almost frantically at the Gates. "You are the hope of every single one of those souls. And you're the hope of this divine kingdom. Without your admittance of souls, the war would be over before it began. I pray that we never lose you."  
  
"I am nothing," he forced out, his entire frame shaking. He wanted to brush her comforting arm away. He did not deserve her kind words. He'd betrayed himself, broken his most sacred vow, "compared to the glory of the angels and all they stand for. What do I do, my love?" he whispered. "I herd in souls by the thousands for a sacrilegious war! What good is there in that? How can I justify my position when I know what all these souls will fight for? And nothing can solace the pain I feel for those poor mortals who become intertwined in the world of the angels. They were born with what those in Heaven can only ever dream of, only to come here and be recruited into a celestial war against the cruelest of creations? No." Finally he found the courage to push her away. "I cannot endure your forgiveness. Please, let me take my leave."  
  
"But Yamcha!"  
  
"Bulma, please, I beg of you as your inferior. Please, please, let me go. I will discuss this with you another time. Right now my place is with my souls. And I apologize for having lectured you. Sometimes I have no control over my sharp tongue."  
  
The blue-haired beauty sulked back to her most belovéd of friends, her head hung in shame.  
  
"How can he feel that way?" she whimpered, folding into Goku's warm comfort. "He knows how much I care for him, how much he's needed here, how much…how much—"  
  
"How much you love him?" 18 ventured, her eyes small and fixed on the distant form of Yamcha at the Gates.  
  
"Can I ask you both one favor, if I ask nothing else of you?"  
  
They nodded solemnly. They knew what was coming next.  
  
"Accompany me to Earth, OR—if you will not, for I am leaving as soon as I am permitted to—then will you travel to Earth on your own accord? And stay there for longer than a day?"  
  
Again they nodded. There was no getting out of it this time.  
  
*******************************************************  
  
Goku walked uneasily beside his dearest friend, an ever-present dread pulling at his heart. He did not feel at home on this planet, nor did he feel others thought he belonged. All the while as they walked, arm in arm, he could feel a thousand eyes upon him at any given time; sharp, quick, large, imploring eyes, wondering who this man was that walked with their newly returned, and very precious, house maiden. Three months she'd been "missing", and seen in the company of a "dark stranger". Goku assumed this stranger was himself, though wondered at the citizens' behavior towards him. They were not frightened, only curious.  
  
He decided not to brood about it too long. As Bulma had instructed, he was to "enjoy himself thoroughly" or else she wouldn't let him return. She considered his leaving her rustic cabin at the edge of the forest a big step.  
  
"Don't be so tense," Bulma teased, pressing closer to him. "It looks as though I've kidnapped you."  
  
"I'm twice your size," Goku murmured, hating the feeling of not being able to express himself with his wings. He shrugged his shoulders not knowing now to present himself.  
  
At this Bulma let out a howling laugh.  
  
"What?" he asked, almost hurt, stopping dead in the middle of the street. Several angry market-goers pushed by them. Bulma grabbed his arm and ushered him between two tents.  
  
"Sorry." It was unbearable to try to keep her laughter in. "It's only that you're so obviously uncomfortable in your guise. But I know what you're going through. I was at a loss for my wings too. For months I did little things like shrugging my shoulders and moving my arms in odd directions. But once you get past that—"  
  
"Bulma, I don't plan on staying that long. I have duties that demand my attention. I only asked the Lord for one Earth week. I can do no more."  
  
She manner faltered some, her eyes dropping, then rising quickly again.  
  
"Well, then," she sighed, trying to pick her cheery voice back up. "We'll just have to make the most of that week, now won't we?"  
  
"And what are we going to do? I've seen all this when I visited you before. What more is there on Earth than these people who push by you or don't give you a second glance in their busy schedules? How can I feel that passion you feel? I don't understand it."  
  
"Well, you will, trust me. In a week try to tell me the same thing and see if there's any feeling left in it. I doubt there will be."  
  
"And just how can you ensure that? Bulma, I'm in agony being so far from the Lord for so long."  
  
"It's been two days, Goku. Toughen up. You cannot face a demon with such a weakening need. When the war comes you will be without the Lord for so long you'll forget his presence. You know what I mean…Now, to answer your question, I shall ensure my promise by taking you to visit ma Grandmère."  
  
"But you don't—"  
  
"On Earth I do. Not literally speaking. But I love her as such. She's an amazing woman. Come! I've already promised to stop by. She's been worried sick in my absence. Damn 17…"  
  
************************************************************  
  
"Lunaus would have your neck, regardless of who you are Vegeta, if he knew what you were planning."  
  
"Well, that's one good reason for you to not tell him, Council," he sneered, looking around for any sign of his master or one of his snooping scouts. Nothing. "I'm going to Earth whether it pleases you or not. I don't care what weight it puts on your conscience. If you're so damn worried about slipping up to the master, then accompany me. That way you can 'keep an eye on me' as I'm sure he would have done."  
  
"No," Chi-Chi spat. "He wouldn't even allow you out of his sight for eons if he knew you were going to the Earth to spy on that mortal woman. What is it that you see in those creatures, anyway?" Her piercing black eyes seemed to match her raven hair perfectly in that moment. "And a virtuous one at that? I don't understand."  
  
"And you wouldn't," he hissed.  
  
"You have a soft spot for her, don't you?" Her eyes all but bulged from her skull.  
  
"Bite your tongue. That is not how it is and you know it. You know me better than any other demon simply because you were designed to know me. I am the hater of everything mortal. I plan to prove she isn't one."  
  
"Excuse me? Isn't mortal?"  
  
"I sensed some deep secret in her, and I don't think it was a recipe for stew. She could be the key Lunaus has been looking for!"  
  
"If not a mortal woman, then what? An angel?"  
  
"An angel?" he laughed outright at the absurdity of her question. "Of course not. She's something entirely new. A new breed of human, but nothing like a mortal. I can't explain it, but I'll know soon. She's not of humans, I can assure you of that."  
  
"Well, then," Chi-Chi laughed. "I can't miss this. You're going to eat your words and be hung by Lunaus all in one instant."  
  
"Shut up."  
  
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---Chapter 4!! Done! Done! Done! Woo! Yay! What'd you think? I got some stuff brewin'! Hope you all liked it…I need more reviews :( Also, how do you like how I've portrayed "the devil"? I feel he's better as not so evil, you know? Hmm, well, you should :P  
  
REVIEW!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! (Reviews=More Chapters)  
  
Next time: Goku discovers who the "dark stranger" is and is immediately untrusting of him. How is it that he seems so familiar? Heehee!  
  
NOTE: For anyone reading my other fics (A Moment Alone, A Lifetime To Love or Green Dragon) then I apologize for not updating sooner. I'd post an author's note, but fanfiction.net doesn't allow that anymore. I've had really bad writer's block with both fics. I've even almost finished a chapter for A Moment Alone, A Lifetime To Love, and then realized I hated it and started over. Blarg! I'm too much of a perfectionist when it comes to writing. Curse you! 


	5. Grandmère Mari

Last time:  
  
"Well, then," Chi-Chi laughed. "I can't miss this. You're going to eat your words and be hung by Lunaus all in one instant."  
  
"Shut up."  
  
**************************************************  
  
Mari Kimiyama bolted upright in her bed, ignoring her aching back, and stared into the darkened room. Two figures stood near to the curtained window; one distinctly male, and the other she knew at once to be the closest she'd ever come to a grand daughter, her Bulma. Without thinking, the woman of eighty-seven tumbled out of bed and enveloped Bulma into a surprisingly powerful embrace. The male figure was forgotten, and tears streamed from both women's eyes.  
  
"You're home," Mari whispered, clasping her hands on both sides of Bulma's head, trying to see her in the dark. "My baby."  
  
"Yes, Grandmère, I'm home. And I can't think of any reason I should be leaving again. Forgive me for going so suddenly, but my matter was great. I could not even say farewell to my Lord and Lady."  
  
"But what business, grandchild? Where did you go?"  
  
"A dear friend," she whispered, squeezing Goku's arm. Turn on the lights, my friend. "My dearest friend from where I come from. He was ill and on his death bed. I received word and left without packing a bag. I sat by his side for weeks until he finally left this world. Forgive me, please. You know I would never leave unless it was urgent."  
  
"Oh, my Bulma," Mari whispered. "Don't you dare apologize again. Come." She grabbed her wrist, then, to Goku's complete astonishment, grabbed his as well. "Both of you. I'll make us some tea."  
  
"Aren't you going to ask who my friend is?" Bulma inquired, taking a seat at the large, crudely carved wooden table. Empty handmade mugs and scraps of paper were scattered all over the table; Bulma quickly put things in order and pushed the neatened mess to the other end, giving them all enough room.  
  
"Why, he's the mysterious stranger," Grandmère said with a sly smile as she set the kettle on a hook over the open fire pit. "And now I know the full story. He's the gentleman who came with news of your friend back in your homeland. Yet I can't think of why he's still with you." Her tiny black eyes widened and the frail old woman shuffled over to her granddaughter, and whispered in her ear, "But he's going to marry you, isn't he? That's what this man is following you across the country for? He wants a bride." Her small claw-like hand clutched Bulma's shoulder. "Well, I believe he's made the perfect choice. No woman could make a better bride than you, my dear." And then, raising her voice, she said, "Now, sir, what do you take with your tea?"  
  
Goku, still caught up in the words he'd obviously heard, having supreme angelic hearing, faltered and looked to Bulma.  
  
"He takes it same as me, Grandmère. Lemon and raspberry, no sugar."  
  
"No sugar," Mari huffed. "You could use some sugar, my lovely. All bones you are." Then, snapping her fingers in front of Goku's face, she said, "Now, sir, tell me your name. You've been a moving statue since you came here. I want to hear the voice that's locked inside that handsome face of yours."  
  
"My name is Goku, m'lady." His brows twitched in his nervousness. How to continue? He didn't quite know the etiquette here. Such a remote and sheltered part of the world.  
  
You don't have to say another word. Relax. She loves you already.  
  
At hearing those soothing words, though only in his mind, Goku's shoulders lowered and he clasped Bulma's hand beneath the table. Thank you.  
  
"Goku? Why, I don't believe I've ever heard such a name. What country are you from? It hardly sounds to be from here."  
  
"Very far north," Bulma cut in, receiving a scowl from Mari.  
  
"Girl, let the man speak. I love his voice. Deep. How old are you?"  
  
Twenty-five. I'm thirty here.  
  
Thirty!?  
  
Yes. I was twenty when I first came.  
  
"Twenty-five, lady. And my country is called—" Heavania. "—Heavania. Not well known in these parts."  
  
"No, not at all," Grandmère Mari laughed as she backed towards the fire pit to fetch the screaming kettle. "Is it close to where my Bulma grew up? Near Celestine?"  
  
"Yes, Grandmère, very near."  
  
"Oh, girl!" Mari snapped, though she was far from angry, her tight lips pulling into a smile, as she poured hot water into the mugs, careful not to let the homemade tea bags fall in. "What a mouth you have. Never stops for a minute. Let the boy speak. He doesn't talk much, I can tell, with you as his bride-to-be. Lord, Lord…"  
  
"A day's apart," Goku said, catching Mari's attention. She smiled gratefully at him, then narrowed her eyes playfully at Bulma. "We saw each other often as children, my father being a traveling salesman. Went through Celestine at least once a month."  
  
Very good. I didn't even have to tell you. Very believable too.  
  
I hate to lie to this sweet woman.  
  
Yes, well, the shock of who we are would send her straight to the grave. Now, smile. You look sullen.  
  
"You traveled with your father. Oh! How very nice! Here, Goku, child." She grabbed his wrist and took to stirring in the flavoring of his tea, adding a pinch of sugar from the bowl on the table. Bulma rolled her eyes at this; she couldn't recall how many times she'd done that with her. Pinch of sugar. Pinch of cinnamon. Pinch of garlic on her chicken. Ahh, how she would miss Grandmère Mari when she was finally gone.  
  
Don't make her an angel, Lord. Please, leave her as a free soul. She deserves as much. Please, I love her. Please…  
  
Goku immediately tensed, having heard Bulma's prayer to the Father. Mari Kimiyama was such a pure and good soul, perfect criteria to follow when making a human soul into an angel. He sighed deeply and lifted his mug to his lips, silently adding to Bulma's plea. He did not wish for this kind woman to become an angel either. No good could come of it, he reasoned. Angels feel sorrow, human spirits feel eternal bliss.  
  
Give her that bliss, Lord.  
  
"Now, who will take me shopping this afternoon?"  
  
"We both shall," Bulma piped in, ignoring Goku's stunned inaudible gasp.  
  
"Splendid. Finish your tea. I've been itching to get out of this house for days!"  
  
**********************************************************  
  
"She's with a cloaked Guardian Angel!" Chi-Chi gasped, rubbing her eyes as if she were seeing an illusion. As one of the most powerful demons in Hell, she was endowed with the ability to sense Guardian Angels, the only form of angels that can be detected, even when cloaked. She, along with Vegeta, Krillin, Nappa, and 17, was of a select few who possessed the power, for once Lunaus gave it to them, he was weakened for a considerable amount of time. "Vegeta! You didn't tell me she was being guarded!"  
  
"If I knew, Chi, then I wouldn't have come," he grumbled, making sure he himself was cloaked and off the angel's radar.  
  
"And who is that old hag they're with? Vegeta! We have to leave. Now!"  
  
"Shut up, wench. And come on. She knows who I am, and if we shield our minds, the angel won't have the faintest idea of who we are. Besides, we'll have a great advantage if we can find out his name."  
  
"No, I forbid it," Chi-Chi snapped. "And we cannot risk knowingly confronting a Guardian Angel. Their perception of things is far greater than normal angels. Confront her when she is alone, and her angel is not watching."  
  
"Whore," Vegeta muttered, turning away from her.  
  
"Where are you going?"  
  
"To collect souls with 17 while I wait. Are you coming?"  
  
"Bastard…"  
  
**********************************************************  
  
Bulma breathed deeply the smell of the market area: fresh fruits, vegetables, the perfume of the women. Everything about this place she loved. The way the people walked, even, was enough to keep her distracted for hours on end. How delicate and graceful the women walked, and how loud and heavy the men walked. And men in themselves? They were the most confusing of all. Of course there were male and female angels, but they were mostly the same. On Earth, however, the males seemed to dominate the population, and their body structures in themselves were worth a second glance. Bulging muscles and thick, lean necks, their clothes rough and torn most of the time. The only exception on Earth where the Kings, and even then sometimes they sported torn clothing and dirty faces. And she loved every inch…  
  
"Apples!" Grandmère Mari shouted over the crowd, her tiny figure all but hidden in the masses. Bulma managed to snake around a family of eight and purchase a dozen rip red apples from a vendor.  
  
"You the fox the town bin talkin' 'bout?" the vendor said in a gruff, sultry voice. It was a known fact that Bulma of Celestine was the fairest beauty in Grables, the town in which she now resided. "Ki'napped, eh? Taken against ye will at the hands of some roughian?" A smirk spread across his features and he reached out, gently running his fingertips along her naked arm. "Well, lady, I'll protect ye. Just holler and I'll be right there when ye needs…assistance."  
  
"I believe I can handle her," came Goku's words, the voice of a savior. "But thank you, sir, for your concern." He placed some money in the merchants hands, of which Bulma had been kind enough to give him early, then pulled her into the crowd and as far from the apple-vendor as possible. "Are you alright?" Goku asked when they were out of earshot, his fingers tightening on her forearm.  
  
"Goku," Bulma laughed, prying herself free. "I'm fine. I've lived here for ten years. I know how to protect myself." She gave him a quick peck on the cheek, then tugged on his sleeve and made for Mari, who waved at them from the bread wagon. "Besides," she said under her breath as they walked, "I'm just as capable as you, maybe more. I could vanish into thin air and startle that dirty old man into a heart attack if I liked. I'm well taken care of, believe me."  
  
"I only worry because—"  
  
"He's not in disguise," she laughed. She fished out an apple and handed it to him. He took it hesitantly. "Go on. Eat it." When he took a small nibble, she continued. "I can spot a cloaked demon from a mile away."  
  
"Correction," Goku sputtered, spitting out a piece of apple. He didn't like it and handed it back to Bulma, who chuckled lightly and took a bite. "You can spot a weak demon, one of the second ranks or lower, or recently commissioned fallen angels. The First Demon and his closest cohorts are almost as powerful as we are. If any were around, they could spot me in an instant. I'm not very well blended in the Earth population."  
  
"Maybe that's because you're like ten feet tall."  
  
"Bulma, please, I'm being serious."  
  
"Well there's a change. I was wondering when you were going to straighten up and put your work first. Lord knows you goof off too much."  
  
"Bulma!" he snapped, just as they made it to Mari, who stood with her hands on her hips, her eyes narrowed.  
  
"Girl," she sighed. "What are you doing to upset your man? Don't you know it's unladylike to upset your beau in public!"  
  
"Don't you know, Grandmère, that I am not a ladylike lady?" Bulma giggled, not being able to help herself. Mari only huffed and turned away, motioning for her young companions to follow her. She needed flour, she explained, and eggs and poultry. And what was it that Bulma so loved? Ah, yes, fresh green grapes.  
  
***********************************************************  
  
It was late, well past midnight, and Bulma was just now beginning to fall asleep. As demanded, she was housing with her Grandmère that night, though Goku was roomed on the opposite side of the house. It was inappropriate, she said, for a man and woman to share the same bed, or even room, when they were not tied in Holy matrimony. Bulma only reluctantly agreed, even with all she wanted to talk with Goku about.  
  
"Woman!" came a hushed voice, piercing the silence. Bulma shot up in bed and looked toward her window, where a shadowed figure took up most of its space. Without the slightest fear, she approached the window and pulled back the curtains, her caller revealed as the man from three months ago who she somehow could not get out of her head.  
  
"Vegeta," she whispered, propping her elbows on the windowsill and sticking her head out. "What are you doing? Don't you know the hour?" A sly smile crawled onto her face and she tilted her head to the side, her silky locks tumbled like so many aqua waves. "And I thought you were determined never to see me again. What change is here? Have you decided to cooperate with me? I would very much like to spend another day with you."  
  
"Who is that man you were with this afternoon?" he demanded before he could stop himself.  
  
"Why, dear Prince, are you jealous? There is no need. He is but an old friend from my hometown. Still your raging envy, it's a sin you know."  
  
"I envy no man," he snapped, then grabbed at Bulma's arms, easily hoisting her out the window. He held her to him for a moment, as if forgetting his purpose for bringing her outside, or even his purpose for coming, then roughly set her down, as if she carried the plague. "Put this on," he demanded. He peeled off his heavy coat and placed it on her shoulders, careful not to get too close.  
  
"Why?"  
  
"Because, I don't want your townspeople getting up in arms about you walking around in your night things. Just wear the coat, alright?"  
  
"Yes, sir," she laughed. "Though they might note my lack of shoes."  
  
"Forget it. Come." He grabbed her wrist and led her halfway down the dirt road before she could get his attention and pull him to a stop. "What?"  
  
"Vegeta, please, I demand to know where we're going. I've left no note for ma Grandmère incase she wakes in the night, and my other houseguest is extremely protective of me. I can't let you take me a step further."  
  
"You are hardly the saint everyone claims you to be," Vegeta stated simply, his raven black hair appearing almost blue in the moonlight. "A demon-spawn is more like it."  
  
"I bed your pardon," she hissed, curling her tiny hands into fists. "I resent that insult!"  
  
"Most insults are meant to be resented, lady."  
  
"Inconceivable," she muttered, sending a pang through his soul. Lunaus had used the same word to describe him not too long ago. "I—Vegeta, why, who is that beauty that's lurking behind us? Your wife? Does she not trust you to go out at such a late hour?"  
  
"No, no," he laughed, and motioned for a woman with thick, flowing black hair to join them. She hesitantly took a few steps in their direction, stopping abruptly at Vegeta's side. "My servant girl."  
  
"Ve—" Chi-Chi began angrily, though stop short and hung her head. Damn him!  
  
Soon the three beings, all assumed as mortals by the others, found a spot just outside the market place and sat on the cool green grass. Chi-Chi, nervous at best, stayed close to Vegeta, though not so much to suggest she was more than a servant. By the time the sun rose over the horizon, they'd talked themselves in circles, leaving many gaps and unanswered questions.  
  
"Rude wench!" Chi-Chi snarled, clawing angrily at Bulma, who'd only just called her Vegeta's bed servant. For some ten minutes the three had been in a heated argument, of which none could remember the source.  
  
"Vial mistress!" Bulma spat back, her right arm held tightly by Vegeta, who also held one of Chi-Chi's arms.  
  
"Ladies!" he roared. He shoved Chi-Chi several feet away and demanded that she leave at once and he would find her when he needed her. Without another word directed at him, she left, muttering incoherently under her breath. "Saint, saint, saint," he sighed, scratching at his head. "You know I'll never hear the end of it from her. You best cower the next time our paths cross, woman, for your will not like my mood. I am forever banishing your from my thoughts. Good day!"  
  
"Good day to you too!" she hissed after him, her eyes welling with tears. And to think she'd actually though she'd liked that man!  
  
"Who was that man you were just talking with?" Goku asked, his footfalls loud and informative of his presence, long before his words took shape.  
  
"A beast of a man," Bulma sighed, bringing her hands up into her lustrous aqua curls, her fingers raking angrily through them. "And a trophy of a man to the beasts he calls his friends!"  
  
"Bulma," he scolded, glancing quickly over his shoulder, as if the Almighty were there to frown upon His most prized angel. "What makes you say such things?"  
  
"You well know what I mean." She held the same scolding tone with him as he had with her. "These humans…" Again her hands found her hair. "How phenomenal that they are His creatures. Thieves. Murderers. Sinners, all of them. Guilty of the very sins they created for themselves…How is it that something created by Our Father can be this way?"  
  
"You are digging much too deep, my friend," he laughed, pulling her close to him. She almost didn't hear his words, so entranced was she by him, her mortal senses folding under pressure. She pitied humans that they should be doomed to feel so weak in the presence of an angel. "The answers you seek lie closer to the surface."  
  
"Your meaning?" She shook her head.  
  
"Our brothers and sisters of Heaven, of course. What other beings could there be?…Mortals may be fools, a great many of them, but they are ignorant fools."  
  
"Again your meaning throws me," Bulma sighed. "Perhaps it is time I reclaimed my post. For good."  
  
"The angels knew the light and love of God and yet they betrayed him and no longer reside in Heaven. Lunaus, and all those who followed his lead, knew full well what they were doing." He kissed her forehead suddenly, as if he couldn't stand not to any longer. "Think on this: the fallen ones choose to ignore the Father when they know he is there, but mortals…They shall never know Him until they die, and therefore cannot fully realize the final consequences of their actions." He clasped her hands and took a step back, his brilliant eyes sparkling in the sunlight, though Bulma's focus was completely on his words. How intriguing his philosophies were. "Give redemption a chance before you turn your back on them forever. They are but infants to time and lessons, and we are their seniors, their teachers. We have the power to help them," he said, pointing to a beggar man whose pockets were full of stolen fruits and scraps of bread. "So use your remaining time to do that which you can."  
  
And before she could utter a word, he was gone, his retreating steps her answer. This was something she had to do on her own.  
  
"Sir," she finally said, startling the shabby beggar. "Come with me. My masters are kind people. They will give you work and pay." She tossed the few coins she had in her purse at a vendor, then gently grabbed the man's arm and escorted him out of the market, her heart and conscience already feeling lighter.  
  
Perhaps her Guardian Angel friend was right. After all, everyone deserves a second chance.  
  
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---Chapter 5!! Yay! Another one in the bag! Woo! :D Sorry it took so long to update, but I've been really busy lately. Hope everyone liked it!…Makes you wonder what Vegeta REALLY wanted to visit Bulma for. And, hey, don't mind the fight. There was a purpose behind it, and the reason they fought doesn't matter. Don't you worry, I know what I'm doing :P  
  
REVIEW!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! (Reviews=More Chapters)  
  
Next time: Hmm…If only I knew… 


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